Sunday, January 22, 2012

Valdiis and I discussed 'where were our characters?' after Wrath of the Righteous had downed Arthas first, so long ago. This, started two years ago and finished last night, is what we came up with.

Kingsfall

a collaboration by Eredis and Valdiis

written while listening to: E.S. Posthumus - Pompeii

E.S. Posthumus - Arise

Golden dawn light limned the sails and
almost lent beauty to the war-torn, ice-battered boat docked at the
harbor at Valiance Keep. The dawn light struggled in vain against the
puffs of sooty steam from the ship’s main power source, the coal
fires banked while the ship sat at anchor. On the wooden docks,
activity bustled as quickly as if it were well after noon. Pairs of
deckhands carried large wooden crates between them from the ship’s
hold to the land end of the docks while a leather-skinned man with a
flat nose which took up half his face and wearing a grimy quilted
coat, screamed threats in a voice more suited to the penguins on the
ice floes than the visage of a grizzled old bosun.

The bosun hadn’t been up more than
three hours and he was already in high dudgeon – stuck on the docks
like a common longshoreman instead of up in the rigging where he
belonged. “If’n ya go droppin’ those crates in ta th’ water,
ya best be ready ta jump in afta ‘em, ‘cause those black-‘earted
deaders are worse th’n th’ frigid sea!”

A low, raspy voice came from over his
left shoulder and about two feet up, “My heart is more of a navy
shade, vhat parts of it are not yet vorm-eaten.”

“Practice,” the draenei female in
heavy plate armor behind him said with a strained chuckle. A brisk
wind off the seawater ruffled her short, tarnished white hair but did
nothing so kind as to bring extra color to her stiff, ashen ebon-gray
face. The glint of dawn off her bladed pauldrons showed the
inordinate care she took for her armor. Not even the sea mist or the
coal smoke marred the battle-pocked surface. Slung across her back
rested a most curious large axe – the blade’s runed edges and the
crossed nails hammered into the pommel seeming to hold a
fresh-from-the-forge glow despite the winter’s chill.

“Vhen zis is done vith, I am goink
somevhere tropical and green,” she muttered to herself, just loud
enough for the bosun to overhear. “Perhaps I can convince zat
damned dead elf to lose herself in Stranglezorn.” Frowning
suddenly, she reached underneath her right pauldron, plated fingers
scraping noisily between her breastplate and the shoulder armor as
she pulled a small, stiff, blackish-navy worm from the gap allowed by
shoulder articulation. “My blood vorms are all frozen over!” she
grumbled. The small frozen worm was dropped into a black leather
pouch strapped to her belt.

The bosun turned greener still,
harrumphed, and tried his level best to ignore the looming deader at
his back and her gruesome parasites. “Watch it, ya addle-pated,
bow-legged bilge rats! Tha’s expensive damn cargo!”

Shaking her head, Commander Valdiis
left the bosun to scream imprecations at the crew and followed a pair
of deckhands up to the land-side of the dock where Major Eredis Orill
and the ship’s captain were deep in negotiations. Valdiis presumed
it was about payment for shipping and unloading all these supplies
for the unit, so she cocked a plate-covered hip against a tall crate
and waited. The dockside smelled of stale fish, frigid sea, and coal
steam – the mélange sharpened by the winter’s bite that almost
made the air itself sparkle with frost. Floating almost innocently in
the steely-gray waters were the tips of much larger floes of ice,
interspersed with the occasional fin of something predatory and
suited to frozen waters.

It wasn’t until
one of the deckhands came over to Valdiis and sheepishly motioned for
her to abandon the crate that she was leaning on that she stopped
sniffing the air and daydreaming about warmer climates, and started
paying attention to what the Major and the ship’s captain were
saying to one another.

###

Two men oversaw the
unloading of the ship whilst the Commander instilled a rightful fear
into the hearts of the longshoremen and crew. One was in a dirty
amalgamation of rags, cloth, and furs – save the captain’s hat
atop his brow – and the other seemed subdued in clothing choice,
but not in spirit. One could easily tell from the blackened saronite
plating and the runed hammer at his belt that this man was one of
Mograine’s Own – one of the better terms that death knights were
called. Less telling and more confusing was the weighted, spiked, and
runed mug hanging from a saronite chain at his other side. It
was clear he was fairly high up in his organization with the
Lordaeron Oak Leaf that was the sigil of a Major in military service
pinned to his unit’s tabard.

“Spoilage is low
this time,” he said. His voice was warmer than the draenei
terrorizing the bosun, as if well-used even throughout his tenure as
something other than just sentient. “You must’ve made good time.”

“Had to, to get
you damned deaders your ‘special equipment.’” The ship’s
master looked cold and surly, one probably leading to the other. “Had
to bu—” Eredis cut the man off with a look. The captain
stammered, then fell silent as he realized his bid for more payment
disappeared in the dead stare of the Major.

“That’s nice,” he replied.

“So... If that’s all, then m’boys
will be on ou—” The captain of the ship stopped again at another
stare.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked. The ship’s master
shook his head.

“Eredis Orill,” said the death
knight. “Quartermaster. And I have a case of Alterac brandy that
needs factoring in Stormwind. Two bottles and twenty golds should
take care of the stacks you nearly melted getting up here with haste,
hmm?”

For a long moment, the only thing one
could hear was the chill wind blowing off the Frozen Straits, causing
warm-blooded longshoremen to wave at Valdiis leaning against a crate
to move so they could finish offloading it. Of course the ship’s
master had heard of him. There were few in the transport industry who
hadn’t.

The moment passed, and the captain
cleared his throat.

“Done. Who do I drop it off to?”

A parchment changed hands with a bag
of coins. “All the details are there.”

The two men parted company, Eredis
waving Valdiis over as the crates were stacked on the dock. He turned
thereafter and waved at another group of plate-clad Knights to come
over and start loading the crates onto the wagons, each pulled by
Deathcharger.

“Coffee,” Eredis started, “is
one of the greatest developments to come from Dalaran since sharp
cheese.”

They sat within the dockside inn, the
roaring fire enough to warm even the chill wafting off the Major
although both he and Valdiis sat half a floor above it at a small
table on the landing. The inn personnel seemed more used to death
knights than the average Stormwind citizen, which was a delight in
itself – they didn’t have to worry about rotten fruit and
poorly-worded epithets. The bloodstains from the Major’s inaugural
visit had long since been cleaned up, and the cultist who was the
cook in back had since been replaced.

And the coffee was wonderful.

Two such mugs rested on the table with
a tea service between them. One remained black, though there was
evidence of sugar around the mug. The other mug was full of a rich,
light brown liquid with swirls of white to which Valdiis added
another spoonful of sugar.

Eredis laughed. “Just drink it,
Commander. It’ll warm your core while the Captain bungles the
loading operation. Then think of the taste and how it makes you feel
while you yell at them all for screwing up.”

She harrumphed, taking a second sip
and nodding approvingly, “Not so bitter now. Vhy are ve here
offloadink instead of fightink?”

Eredis rolled his shoulders in a
shrug. His mug was already half empty, and he was assessing the
battered pot that contained the rest with a calculating eye. “Because
it’s our duty, Commander. The General wants the gear there so we
can break straight in this time, instead of cracking open holes for
everyone else to scurry into.”

“Hmph,” she replied. “Stupid to
vaste good fighters on supply runs.”

“It’s sti–…”

Eredis’s response
was cut off by the shrill cry of a young lad out of breath, running
for the inn door. “Major! Maaaaaajor! It’s haaaaappening!”

Coffee forgotten, the Major was on his
feet and to the door as the fur-clad stable boy burst in, cheeks pink
from exertion.

“What is it, Jimmy?” he asked,
stopping him with an ungloved hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“It’s like you said, sir!” the
stable boy replied, heaving for breath. “They changed the time! The
two Colonels – I just got word from the Temple caravan! They left
this morning with mounts and a full combat squad from Scourgeholme!
The assault is today!”

Valdiis and Eredis shared a look. No
words were exchanged, but there was a conversation lasting several
moments contained therein.

We should be there.

You’re right, we should.

But we are supposed to be here.

We can ask for permission to
engage. Once we get there.

“CAPTAIN!”
Eredis bellowed as they both raced outside, “You’re in charge!
Get those supplies moving double-time! Pack them on gryphons if you
have to! The Commander and I are going ahead!”

Inside, Jimmy took what had been
Valdiis’s seat at the table and beamed at a huge frosted cupcake
before him.

Two shrill whistles echoed in the
morning air, answering shrieks coming from the tundra. Within
moments, a green netherdrake and a snowy hippogryph were on the
ground, waiting for their riders.

“Let us move quickly!” Valdiis
shouted as she threw a hoof over the hippogryph’s saddled back.
“Zere vill not be anyzink left by ze time ve get zere!”

“I don’t think that will be a
problem,” came the somber, but entertained reply.

###

The trip went fast, both parties
silent as they urged their mounts as fast as they could go. They flew
into the glare of the sun, unable to see if there were errant Scourge
waiting. The tundra below flew by, Taunka pointing up and grunting an
alarm as they darted over the hunting camps that the tribes had
retreated to. Few other living creatures moved, the entirety of
Northrend waiting, breathless, for the events in Icecrown Citadel to
play out.

“1113th, this is Major
Orill,” he started on the unit-wide communicator. “Colonels
Frostsprocket and Celuur have initiated engagement at Icecrown
Citadel. Commander Valdiis and I are moving to reinforce – all
available assets are to move to the Citadel immediately. Arthas dies
today. That is all.”

Eager to get a situation report,
Eredis set his communicator to ‘General Chatter,’ patching into
the open Allied line. The whistling of the air and the beating of
drake and hippogryph wings turned into the panicked noise of a
massive assault on the Citadel itself. Everyone, literally everyone,
was massing on the tower.

Netherdrake and hippogryph crested the
unusually silent cliffs of Wintergrasp, and the source of the radio
chatter became as clear as the chill sky that surrounded the Citadel
itself. Black specks cycled through the air in a hypnotic dance of
carnage, gnomish recon fighters and goblin heavy bombers firing at
anything that moved. Both Knights could see Skybreaker and
Orgrim's Hammer on opposite ends of the engagement area, the
early afternoon sun’s rays shining against the glow of heavy rounds
burning through the air, of rockets finding gargoyles, and of val’kyr
and frostwyrms harrying interceptors and airships alike.

The flagships were aflame in places,
damage sustained from fighting the Scourge and fighting each other.
The Hammer meant little, but the Skybreaker would be
too valuable to lose. Eredis shouted into the communicator,
“Skybreaker, this is Major Orill with the ‘Thirteenth. Get
fire control on deck! The Knights of Menethil will keep your skies
clear!”

Skybreaker wasn’t long in
responding. “Negative! Keep the val’kyr off the tower! We have an
assault team near the Lich King now! … But if you can slow down the
frostwyrms long enough for us to take a shot, we’ll take it!”

“Understood, Skybreaker!”

Keeping an ear on the chatter for a
moment, Eredis yelled, “Commander! We’re on air interdiction!
Whoever kills the most val’kyr wins dinner!”

“Vhat about ze vyrms?”

“I’ll bake a cake for every one
that dies!”

Galvanized by the battle before them,
both mounts spurred forward, talons ready. A cloud of spectral,
winged figures around the Citadel’s spire caught their attention,
and Eredis waved to Valdiis.

“Pull off as many val’kyr as you
can! I’ve got a dragon to slay!”

“Yes, sir!” she cried in response,
her weapon already readied in one hand as her hippogryph took the
lead. Eredis tucked into her left flank as the distance closed,
goblin flak rockets exploding alarmingly close as they sped through
the center of the combat zone.

Abruptly, Valdiis was without support
as the Major braked, then gained altitude as the cry of a frostwyrm
rang out in the air, followed by the huffing of its breath as it
tried to freeze the marines aboard the Skybreaker. Her backup
now otherwise occupied, she chose a val’kyr getting perilously
close to the platform where she could see tiny figures fighting
another she knew to be the Traitor Prince, Arthas Menethil.

Leaning forward to create less
resistance, she yelled a battle cry as her hippogryph crossed right
in front of the val’kyr intent on mischief. It sounded more like a
harpy than a death-maiden of the Scourge as it shouted an alarm, and
not one but four val’kyr broke off from their attempts at
harrying the strike force to give chase. A feral grin upon her
features, Valdiis nudged her mount higher, bleeding off airspeed
before she banked and dropped, turning both draenei and mount into a
ballistic projectile.

A scream muffled by the thin air of
high altitude mingled with the snicker-snack of an axe-blade biting
home into a form more spectral than corporeal. It was no less
susceptible than any other form to a blade imbued with death magic
aimed directly for the core. As the axe found its mark, so too did
the edge of a glaive against the hippogryph’s left side. The low
and armored saddle stopped what Valdiis’s armored leg did not.
Flexing her plate-covered knees – the first set of them – against
the sides of her specially-bred Argent war hippogryph and ignoring
the spurt of blood from beneath the crumpled titansteel greave,
Valdiis guided the white-feathered Kamilorah out of the way as the
val’kyr’s motionless form plummeted out of the sky.

A bubbling glow of
decay faded from the edges of her axe, though the ever-burning metal
still glowed hot. Wielding the giant two-handed blade in one hand as
easily as if it were a small hatchet, Valdiis whistled a note to her
hippogryph and together draenei and mount dove for another of the
spectral val’kyr fighters which had broken off from harrying the
forces battling on the Throne’s platform to give chase.

"Zat is one!”
she shouted to the Major over the roar of air past her ebon-gray
face, the stiffness of death subsumed beneath the exhilaration of
battle. Spiraling back upwards after catching a val’kyr’s ire
with a well-placed coil of blackish-green death magic, she came quite
close to clipping the netherdrake Verdein’s right wing and laughed
it off. As long as the spectral death-maiden was chasing her instead
of carrying off the strike team below, everything was according to
design – even the near misses and blood trails.

###

Aboard Skybreaker, a draenei
and a dwarf lounged near a quiescent cannon while marines hurried
about, putting out fires and fending off frostwyrms, gargoyles, and
val’kyr. Their attention was focused on the tiny figures darting in
and out of the defense zone, drawing off Scourge forces as best they
could. The cannon was silent, but prepared for anti-aircraft fire.
For the most part, they were left alone – their job had begun with
transporting the strike team to the upper floors of the Citadel
itself, and now it ended in spotting the frostwyrms so the cannoneers
could get a clear shot.

“It is not about the spirits! She is
a trained draenei fighter! She will take down at least seven, and
still stay aloft! And I thought you fought with her!”

“...An’ I’m sayin’ three. Fi’
silvers on et.”

“...Five silvers.”

“Aye.”

“Alright. I will take pleasure in
you losing money.”

“I dinnae see tha’ happenin’.”

###

Eredis could see
Valdiis antagonizing a whole host of val’kyr as the body of one
dropped on three more. A chorus of cries filtered down to the cloud
that was starting to disperse from the Citadel’s spire. The Major
smiled, nudging Verdein across a frostwyrm’s line of sight for a
third time, throwing the bone dragon’s aim off.

After three such passes, it took the
bait. With a howl that could only be described as draconic rage, the
frostwyrm gave chase after the comparatively small enemy. Its jaws
started snapping after the netherdrake, and the Major risked a look
back to see how close it was.

It was at this moment that Eredis
realized that a frostwyrm’s breath stinks.

“Dive!” he cried as he flattened
himself against Verdein, the netherdrake abruptly dropping into a
controlled spin and narrowly missing doom at the jaws of the Scourged
wyrm.

###

High above the frozen ground, the thin
air seemed to amplify the distant sounds and muffle the closer ones.
The gentle, feathered whuffs of Kamilorah’s wing beats were drowned
out entirely by the sounds of the battle on the Throne far below.
Fireballs exploded with arcane power and blades blessed by the
righteousness of those fighting for life clanged. She could have
sworn she even heard an Alliance battle cry somewhere amidst the
incoherent shouts.

A battle-lust of
such fervor and certainty as she had not felt since years before her
death overtook Valdiis. These val’kyr were just vrykul spirits
without the strength given by the Light to regain their freedom like
she had or the ability to hold a solid body together like she could.
They were nothing more than fleeting obstacles between her and
vengeance for all the pain she and her brothers – in arms and in
blood – had suffered. They could not even hope to reach her skill
with a blade. They had no chance of landing a bl-…

As she wove among the three val’kyr
surrounding her, her axe-blade singing last rites as it moved, the
few seconds of icy battle clarity Valdiis had shattered. So did the
bones of her right hand. The val’kyr pressed its spectral form
against the draenei as it tried to use the mace that had just crushed
her hand to catch the downward curve of her axe to disarm her and its
body to unseat her. Kamilorah cawed nervously as his wing became
entangled with the val’kyr’s legs and the three of them began
spiraling sharply down and to the right.

Runes glowed like reddened coals
against the molten orange of the blade’s edge as Valdiis drew on
their power, coaxing the nascent magic of spilled blood to mingle
with blood runes inscribed on the titansteel vambraces strapped over
her forearms. The runes on her vambraces seemed to pulse with a slow
heartbeat while the val’kyr and draenei struggled against one
another. Her right hand useless for holding the axe anyway, Valdiis
released her grip on her axe with it and snapped her forearm up
beneath the val’kyr’s chin, releasing the magic of the runes in a
strike that ordinarily would have gone for the heart, but instead
left a gaping hole beneath the val’kyr’s chin.

Abruptly, Kamilorah’s rightward
spiraling stopped, although they were still losing airspeed at an
alarming rate. The val’kyr’s shriek was more of a gurgle as it
fell back, translucent wings beating heavily as it tried to recover
for another maneuver. It seemed proper somehow that the battle far
below at the Throne was louder to her than the crunching grate of
bone shards as she forced her right hand to obey her commands anyway,
unwinding a length of chain from her waist as her left hand held her
axe in a defensive stance across her torso.

The hippogryph stabilized and began
climbing, dodging the three val’kyr while his rider recovered.
Dripping ichor from the wound it had been given, the val’kyr shot
upwards and then folded its wings to drop down on Valdiis. Another
grate of bones being forced to do what they were no longer truly able
to and the length of chain snapped out, wrapping around the val’kyr’s
ribs and wings. A chill beyond even the frigidity of Icecrown’s
peaks flared briefly and the chain links locked in ice around the
val’kyr. Flightless, it tumbled away with a gurgling cry.

“Two,” Valdiis gasped out as her
not-deadened-enough nerves set up an extra strong hue and cry over
her hand. There were moments when the regenerative powers Lord
Thorval had taught her to bring her body’s systems back to a muted
sense of ‘life’ really…really…sucked.

###

In
the skies above Icecrown, two dragons fought. One was entirely dead,
fleshless and imbued with unholy power. One was alive and well,
though carrying an entirely dead but ambulatory human on its back -
also imbued with unholy power.

It
had all the sinuous movement of a pair of cats fighting. Verdein
darted in with talons and teeth, Eredis with mug and hammer, and they
would chip a bone or break a femur before moving off for another
pass. The frostwyrm spat blue flames at them or tried to buffet them
with its bone wings, focused more on the larger problem of the
Skybreaker.

During one of
those moments of diverted attention, Eredis and Verdein directed a
precision strike. Coming in low as if a shark in the skies above the
battlefield, Verdein flipped in a fast roll to snatch a talon off the
frostwyrm with his own, righting himself just in time for Eredis to
smash a second with his three-spined hammer. As the fragments rained
down on the field below, the air split with a furious screech of a
disarmed construct.

###

In a flurry of white feathers and
darkened plate armor, Valdiis and Kamilorah rolled in midair to the
frustrated shriek of the val’kyr on the hippogryph’s streaming
tail. The soft strands of bluish-white hair that made up the tail
were smeared with red and navy blood, but his wings still beat strong
and his beak was sharp. That sharp beak whipped to the side in tandem
with a distracting feint from Valdiis’s axe. The val’kyr –
intent on the death knight’s weapon – missed the fact that a
trained battle mount is just as much of a weapon in a death knight’s
hands as a blade.

The spectral-but-solid val’kyr cried
out some sort of curse about her master having the final word as the
hippogryph’s beak ripped through her side, but it was lost amidst
the howling winds buffeting the spires high above the Throne. Valdiis
tapped a knee against her mount’s right side and he canted left to
allow the val’kyr’s corpse fall free.

“Zat is three!”
she shouted to the winds, tilting her head back to look up away from
the Throne and try to spot Eredis and Verdein. She only searched for
a second or two though, knowing that a fourth val’kyr was still in
the air. Where was…? Aha. There. With a low whistle that was barely
audible in the winds, but clear enough for Kamilorah to hear, she
directed her mount into another upwards climb. The val’kyr in the
air several dozen feet above her didn’t seem to have realized that
its quarry was below it now.

Valdiis hefted her axe in her left
hand and drew upon one of the runes of death inscribed on the blade,
gathering a coil of blackish-green magic to smash into the val’kyr
as she approached. Before she had enough power gathered, the
val’kyr’s wings folded and it dropped rapidly, spinning as it did
so with a wickedly-curved spear pointed towards the draenei. Caught
off-guard – how did the val’kyr know she was approaching?
– Valdiis could only squeeze her legs tightly against her mount’s
sides as he banked left to dodge the spear.

Too late, too little, too slow. The
spear tore through the bird’s wing with a splash of red blood and a
flurry of white feathers. Despite the thin air, his shrill, pained
caw was loud as he jerked the wing to his side, the spear embedded in
the meaty flesh of the upper bend of the limb. The val’kyr holding
onto the haft of the spear was jerked in by the movement and used the
added momentum to barrel into the hippogryph’s rider. Battle cry
mixed with surprised yell mixed with pained shriek as the three of
them tumbled over and over in the air high above the glacier.

Valdiis released the coil of death
magic into to the val’kyr’s face as she caught a glimpse of
another wickedly-curved blade. The val’kyr’s dagger scraped
against her saronite breastplate with a horrendous screech, but she
was protected. With a howl of rage, the death-maiden scrabbled
against Valdiis’s breastplate with one hand, plunging the dagger
against her armored body over and over with the other.

Her left leg shook from the effort of
clinging doggedly to the saddle, the crushed plate on her calf
seeming to press her leg away from the saddle even as her knee
pressed inwards. Another tumbling roll. They were falling fast. She
had to do something about this val’kyr quickly.

And then the val’kyr did something
about itself. It braced its spectral legs against Kamilorah’s side,
wrapped its arms around Valdiis’s waist, and kicked backwards,
yanking them both free from the injured hippogryph. A Draenei curse
ended on a swiftly indrawn breath as the val’kyr’s dagger burned
a white-hot line up Valdiis’s ribs – the damned spectre found the
gap where her breastplate closed.

Valdiis chanced a glance downwards,
watching Kamilorah’s blood-spattered form spiral away below her as
the val’kyr kept stabbing frantically at the gap in her armor. Each
stab was tainted with the very Scourge magic Valdiis twisted to her
own ends, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t damned uncomfortable.
The blade jammed between two of her ribs. Her battle training told
her where to strike to break the grip on her waist, to knock the
val’kyr unconscious or dead with a blow – but some entirely
uncharacteristic instinct kept her hanging on to the val’kyr
instead of delivering the killing blow. It tried to break the
draenei’s grip on its torso, bobbing and dipping in the air,
screeching in frustration. This turn of events had left the val’kyr
and the death knight in an odd - if temporary - stalemate.

###

He’d lost precious seconds
antagonizing the frostwyrm when he saw Valdiis dismounted by an irate
val’kyr. Verdein evidently saw it as well – somehow he’d taken
a liking to the draenei, Eredis thought – and both of them moved as
one. The netherdrake dove, pulling up sharply as Eredis left the
hammer aside and took his tankard by the saronite chain, swinging it
as the dead-weight it was about to make the death-maiden.

What began as a faraway speck quickly
formed into an amalgamated blob of draenei and spectre wrestling with
one another, the weight of the death knight’s armor causing an
instinctual reaction to hang on instead of simply let go. Verdein saw
it, and the drake turned so Eredis had a clear shot as they sped from
below to above in the fraction of a second.

###

There was a massive jolt above her and
the spectral grip on her waist was gone. Top-heavy from her
pauldrons, Valdiis pitched forward in the air and began falling head
first. Far below her, she could see the flashes and fires of the
forces battling on the Throne itself. A slithering hiss, a clank and
a rattle – and the chain around her neck caught on the curve of her
horns, the small, pearly orb encased in delicate mithril filigree
swinging free to fall between her face and the battle hundreds of
feet below.

The Light. Faith. Righteousness,
she thought as the wind shrieked past her ears, the orb a symbol to
her of all these. Dagone helping her forge the mithril. Kensaij
teaching her to do the intricate filigree. Eredis nonchalantly
passing her the box in which he’d packed the orb. Friendship...
Images and memories flashed through her mind in seconds. Celuur
helping her lay her eldest brother’s ghost to rest. Kylea giving
her an awkward hug at the fire shrine in the Exodar. Bergmann
praising her command at Pyrewood. Watching from the shadows of the
Stormwind streets as her brothers, Diyos and Athos, leave their
bookshop, alive and safe and well.

The wind whistling past became a
deafening scream and the battle – still far below – became a
flash of blue-white light so brilliant that she was forced to close
her eyes against the glare. Her leg ached, her side ached, her hand
ached. She was so tired…

At least I got my three kills.

An ear-splitting screech of talons on
metal accompanied a second, massive jolt and the pain in her side
increased exponentially as her downward plummet arrested. Her eyes
snapped open only to see the world spin madly around her as she was
caught in – she twisted her head to look – a netherdrake’s
talons. A familiar netherdrake’s talons… Major Eredis Orill’s
boot was just visible around the mount’s side.

They became less like a drake and
rider and more like a ballistic dart. Verdein’s wings folded back
along his spine leaving Eredis between them and Valdiis below. Before
the unlikely trio, the frostwyrm the Major had been hunting was
making a strike on the Skybreaker’s port engine, breaking
off as the flash of shadow against sunlight clued it in that hostile
intent was fast approaching.

As quick as the gunners on the
Skybreaker could blink, a saronite-and-emerald blur had
flashed past both airship and frostwyrm, a blast of unholy energy
getting the construct’s attention. With a hiss, it forgot about the
battery-bristled airship and gave pursuit.

Eredis let the tankard fall to his
side and swing from the chain while he took his other mainstays - the
three-spined hammer anchored to his belt with another length of
saronite chain, and the rope-tethered throwing-spear he’d had on
Verdein’s back ever since he stole it from the Hyldsmeet - and
managed an ungainly stand on the drake.

“Commander!” he shouted, readying
the spear. “Get back to the Skybreaker and remount when you
can! Verdein, get her there!”

He could see the frostwyrm diving from
a higher elevation, and he readied the spear. Wait for it...

The moment came. Eredis threw the
spear, the rope around his wrist as he saw it fly true.

“Verdein! Break!”

The netherdrake juked hard right then
rolled left, bucking Eredis off as the frostwyrm dove towards the
ground. It was only a moment before the Major was jerked after the
wyrm, the rope snapping taut then becoming slack again as inertia
closed the gap. He scrabbled for his hammer as the frostwyrm leveled
and prepared to turn to attack the retreating netherdrake, readying
for a potentially deadly collision.

###

“Rosoe!”
“BERGMANN, WH—”
“No’ now! Get
on th’ cannon!”
“For what? We are
not going to hit a frostwyrm!”

The dwarf pointed
at a dark speck near such a frostwyrm that was leveling out. Draenei
and dwarf both watched the speck collide, and the wyrm’s screech
echoed throughout the valley as it bent under the impact in midair,
then started bucking wildly.

“Bergmann, you
are crazy!”
“No! Tha’ man’s
crazy! ‘E’s goin’ tae give us a shot!”
“Fine! FINE! We
have six rockets!”
“Fuse ‘em fer
contact! We’ll get one wee sho’ at et!”

###

The wyrm’s shrill cry wasn’t the
only one. The human on its back was crying out with it – less a cry
of pain than of irate annoyance, the saronite plating on his legs
buckled and bone jutting from one leg. The three-spined hammer was
embedded in the frostwyrm’s ribcage now – but so was the Major’s
foot. He had certainly gotten the construct’s attention.

Hovering almost even with the front
gate of the Citadel, the bony frostwyrm began bucking in midair,
trying to throw the plate-wearing monstrosity off its back. Each
undulation brought additional elevation, but could not dislodge the
death knight who was quite attached to his new steed. It heaved with
great bone wings, hissed, roared, and spit blue flames at the
battlefield below – yet it could still feel the spines of a heavy
saronite hammer lodged near what once were vital areas.

It was the rocket burst that finally
drew the wyrm’s attention away from the ineffectual Knight on its
back. A rickety bomber of goblin design had broken away from the
sortie higher above, where val’kyr, fighters of both Horde and
Alliance, and gargoyles all scrambled together in one giant ball of
blood and ichor. Figuring on an easy kill, the little green pilot had
fired a barrage from his wing-mounted pods, but only one had gotten
close enough to make the dragon feel the explosion.

As the frostwyrm changed modes from
hover to evade, the pattering of heavy-caliber rounds walked down the
tail and up the spine, moving perilously close to Eredis. He
inscribed a fast frost rune so the rounds chipped away at a thick
sheen of ice which covered his armor and flesh – though the burst
sheared through the rope holding him to his spear and he lost the
weapon in the smoke and movement.

The next moments were a blur to
everyone on the field as a fast-moving goblin interceptor chased a
faster frostwyrm through clouds of gargoyles and val’kyr, too fast
for anything to take aim at. Bullets ripped through the air where the
wyrm had been moments before, sending a gnomish bomber down in
flames. The flying drew close and closer to the Orgrim's Hammer,
flak cannon on board still tracking even as the flight crew worked to
put out the fires and repair the damage incurred during the short
fight with the Skybreaker at the Citadel’s spire.

Through the smoke and frosty air,
Eredis could see the trailing tip of his Hyldsmeet spear and the
rope, just a few feet from where he was stuck. The weapon had gotten
tangled around the frostwyrm’s neck and it didn’t notice,
occupied as it was by the pursuit of the goblin and the large airship
about to fi-...

Explosions ripped through the air once
more as the cannons fired and shells burst around them. The wyrm
banked sharp left, away from the airship and into the grand melee
around them – and then rolled hard right to head straight for the
Hammer itself with the goblin fighter in close pursuit.
Shouting erupted from the Hammer as the flight crew saw the
frostwyrm hissing steam, creating a cloud thick enough that Eredis
couldn’t see.

And if the Knight couldn’t see, the
goblin in the plane behind him certainly couldn’t either. The wyrm
flashed past the dual airbags of the Horde airship, just skirting the
deck as the fighter impacted against the deck itself. Eredis could
feel the heat of the exploding plane as its payload ignited, sending
orcs, trolls, and every Horde in between for the evacuation gigs.

The wyrm shook itself a few times and
seemed satisfied with the result. Lazily, as if it felt it had
achieved total victory, it drew its attention back to the other
airship in its skies. Eredis realized in but a moment what had
happened: the wyrm had forgotten.

He
looked around, gaining his bearings, and saw a flash of green behind
him. Neither Commander nor netherdrake had listened to his order - he
did make the order, didn’t he? - and were gaining ground. The
chatter from his comm told him that the Skybreaker
had its hands full and could do little, if anything, about the
frostwyrm coming up on its aft.

Well
then, he thought, it
will just have to be up to us.

He
leaned forward just far enough that he could grab the spear as the
shattered bone in his leg ground against the saronite boot he wore.
The anchor rope attached to it was still too far out of reach! The
Knight gritted his teeth and continued to strain and pull as the rope
grated across the wyrm’s neck - and at this, it took notice and
began to buck again as it got closer to the Skybreaker.
Eredis could tell it meant to hit it from below, nice and fast, to
try to detonate the large bomb in the bay.

Nothing
for it, he decided. They
can put back together what’s left.

With a battle cry,
he threw himself forward and felt the tendons and ligaments that kept
his knee attached to the rest of the leg separate. His hand extended
out as far as he could reach, his fingers could just touch the frayed
end of the rope where the goblin had shot through it.

The
Skybreaker grew
closer. The wyrm flew faster. The Knight reached just a little
farther...

And
pulled back as hard as he could. As if by instinct, the frostwyrm
flung its wings out to catch a draft and flew up
instead of forward, right past the propellers that kept the
Skybreaker aloft.
Right past the cannons that had been pouring fire into Scourge air
units and ground units alike. All forward momentum had stopped as it
graced the top of the flight deck, illuminated in the afternoon sun.

“TITAN’S
TESTICLES!" the Major heard in the short moment of absolute
silence as the wyrm began to stall. "FIRE!”

The chill of the afternoon air gave
way to an incredible heat and pressure as his world detonated. The
force of the blast blew him off the frostwyrm as it exploded, the
rope and saronite chain attaching him to his anchors incinerated in
the blast. White-hot pain faded back to the dull, chill ache of dying
flesh and icy air. Surrounded by scraps of bone, many battering his
armor before he fell free, he was to herald the arrival of a white
rain of decay onto the ground of the glacier below.

It took Eredis a moment to reorient
himself, as high up as he was. He could tell he was falling but not
how, until he shifted and could see a flash at the top of the
Throne tower as he sped by it. The jolt that accompanied it caused
his heart to beat once, and magnify all of his pains a hundredfold.

Arthas had fallen. The strike team had
succeeded.

As quickly as it came, the feelings
faded. A satisfied smile on his face, Eredis twisted in the wind to
face the ground as it rushed towards him. His feet above him and
facing directly down, he closed his eyes.

Hell of a ride.

The falling Knight heard a whistle and
a silvery flash of feathers flying straight up met a plate-clad stone
falling down. Eredis felt ribs separate as four cries split the air -
two animal, two other - and opened his eyes.

Kamilorah, Valdiis’s hippogryph, had
caught him. One wing looked to be in terrible shape and they were
merely gliding towards the Skybreaker flight deck with no
control of speed. The creature seemed dazed, feathers and fur matted
with blood. Above him, Eredis could see glistening bone in Verdein’s
right flank, shrapnel from an exploding frostwyrm changing the way
the netherdrake was flapping his wings.

That is to say, flapping them not at
all.

###

“Clear th’
deck! Two comin’ in hot!”

The shout startled
marines and support crew aboard the Skybreaker to scatter, two
wavering specks in the sky solidifying into a netherdrake carrying
one Knight in his talons, and a hippogryph with a second Knight
barely mounted. Neither looked like they were particularly rated for
flight at the moment, but the trajectory both had chosen was one that
didn’t exactly require a lot of skill.

One of the specks
dipped erratically, gaining speed as the Skybreaker’s crew
cleared as much space as they could allow. It wasn’t enough for the
netherdrake to land, but he didn’t seem to mind it as he released
his undead cargo unceremoniously onto the deck and banked off in a one-winged starboard glide for greener pastures – or snowier
glaciers.

The hippogryph had
no such fortune. A vicious crosswind whipped up, shearing the bird
off his intended landing pattern and he skidded across the deck,
finally throwing his passenger off as his front talons scrabbled to
find purchase on the polished planks.

The plate-clad
passenger clattered against the decks before finally coming to rest
contorted most painfully against a pile of crates that marines had
been more recently using for cover against both frostwyrm and val’kyr
during the assault on the Citadel proper. From the state of his
equipment, onlookers could easily see he knew all about both aerial
foes, and they had seen both him and the draenei the netherdrake
dropped off attempting to deny Arthas his sky-borne assets to deploy
against the strike team on the Citadel’s Throne.

The ringing in his
ears subsided, and his vision swam until it focused on two plated
boots standing in front of him and – farther off – another pile
of saronite and titansteel armor that had to have been Valdiis. She
didn’t look much better than he did.

“Is our air
secure?” Eredis asked. His voice sounded like he’d swallowed a
pound of gravel. Looking up, he saw the plated boots were indeed
attached to legs which were attached to a shining crimson beard. Of
course it would be the dwarf. The dwarf was everywhere.

This marks the first post of 'Things To Do In Azeroth When You're Dead', a little thing that KoM decided to put together(okay, well just Valdiis and I, but I'm sure folks will like it) to post stuff about, well, roleplaying a DK on Moon Guard.

So what to expect? Stories. Roleplay guides. Discussions on various bits of lore. Building stories for the dead in the game of World of Warcraft, and exploring the world as a character class the devs have more or less forgot about storywise.